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Authors: Holley Trent

Tags: #shy heroine, #small town romance, #romance series, #north carolina, #contemporary romance, #southern romance, #sensual romance, #rural romance

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BOOK: Clean Slate
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CHAPTER FOUR

Ben watched as Daisy scrambled off the bus and hurried to
her small car like a bolt of lightening. While most of the staff, groggy and
sluggish from the long hot day at the park struggled to get off the bus, she
seemed to possess unbridled energy all of a sudden. Where was she going in such
a hurry?

When he’d boarded the bus at the very last minute with the
brewery crew, she’d been already tucked away in her seat with her back to the
aisle, headphones on, eyes closed, and oblivious to the commotion around her.
Although he’d been tempted to slide into the seat next to her and pepper her
with questions all the way back to Chowan County, he worried too much would be
lost in translation—that he’d come across as unctuous when he was trying
to be funny. He left her be, figuring patience was a virtue he should extol.

In the window reflection, Ben watched Jerry, across the
aisle, raise his arms and stretch. He let a bear-like yawn contort his face.
“Hey, little brother, you want to head into Edenton and get dinner? Either we
eat out or we have frozen pizza again.”

Ben pulled his gaze away from the window as Daisy’s car as
disappeared from sight. “I can probably cook something fast, or we can have
cereal. Whatever.” He brought his wrist up to eye level and stared at the hands
of his watch. Earlier than he thought. “I want to use the landline to call
Moeder
.”

“What is it, two a.m. there?” Trinity asked as she edged
into the aisle.

“Yes. She’s the night manager at the hotel. I want to
catch her on her second break.”

“All right, cereal it is. Maybe I can get on the other
extension,” Jerry said.

“She’d like that.”

Once Trinity was nestled into the bend of the sectional
sofa with a bowl of sugar-o’s on her lap and wielding the remote control, the
brothers filed into the home office. Ben carried the cordless phone.

“You want to dial and I’ll pick up?” Jerry asked, hand
already on the desk phone’s handset.

Ben studied the sleek, black phone in his grip and turned
it over and over in his hand. “In a moment.” He met his brother’s blue gaze,
and chose his words carefully. “Can I ask for your counsel on something?”

Jerry furrowed his brow and sank slowly into the leather
desk chair. “Must be serious. Your voice just dropped half an octave.”

Ben chuckled and set the phone on the desk. He jammed his
hands into the pockets of his shorts and strode across the room to the picture
window. As it was twilight, he couldn’t see much beyond the illuminated garage,
above which he temporarily resided, and the small lights that marked off the
boundaries of the in-ground pool.

Jerry was a lucky man, and a smart one. He purchased the
land cheap at auction and had the house built to spec thanks to his
considerable savings from the career he had before he was N-by-N’s tech guy.

Jerry had dropped out of college to surf professionally
and modeled on the side to pay his rent and subsidize his travel. The modeling
was the far more lucrative gig. He did that for several years before being
frustrated by the vagrancies of the industry. He basically dropped out of
modeling without warning, leaving a number of his old contractors confused. He
didn’t pose again until last year when Nikki strong-armed him into some N-by-N
promo stills.
That’s
how Ben had
found his mother’s long lost son.

“How do you know if a woman is worth pursuing?” Ben turned
around from the window just in time to see Jerry’s eyes widen.

“You’re asking
me
?”

Ben shrugged. “You’ve done pretty well.”

Jerry barked with laughter. “You think I planned that? I
didn’t pursue Trinity and she didn’t pursue me. Not really, anyway. We hooked
up because we got sick of antagonizing each other. Got tedious.”

“But you love her.”

A dreamy smile spread across his brother’s face.
“Absolutely. Pretty sure she returns the sentiment.”

“Hmm.” Ben turned his back to the room and looked out the
window once more. “But before her, certainly there were other women.”

“Yeah.”

When Jerry didn’t elaborate Ben turned his face toward him
and cocked up a brow. “Nothing serious?”

Jerry shrugged. “I was a professional beach bum. Traveled
a lot. When I moved back home, no one really held my interest. Hell, took me
two years to pay attention to Trinity.”

“What did she do that finally got your attention?”

A wolfish grin.

“Tell me.”

“She tried to tame me. Failed, obviously, but the gall
woke me up, that’s for sure. Why? Got some ladies on the hook back in Belgium?”

Ben shook his head. “Like you, I’m on the go too much for
anything serious. I’m just wondering now because I’d like to have a home.
Settle down somewhere.”

“Anywhere in particular?”

Ben leaned his back against the window and crossed his
arms over his chest. “Maybe here.”

“Of all the places in the US you could relocate to, you’d
pick a tiny patch of unincorporated dirt in northeastern North Carolina. Why?”

Ben opened his mouth to respond, but realized he had no
answer. Why? Well, why did his heart beat? Why did he swallow in his sleep? Why
did he close his eyes when he sneezed? Because that’s the way he was
made—what he was programmed to do. “Wouldn’t you like me being nearby?”
He already knew the answer, but felt the question had to be asked anyway.

“Hell yeah, I’d love you being around as Trinity and I
start a family, but what about Clara?”

Ben blew out a long, shuddering breath.
Moeder
. She’d already lost one son to
the US, but to lose the one she raised single-handedly, too? The woman would
probably fade away from the unfairness of it all. “I’ll have to make her
understand it’s the best for everyone. Maybe if she sees I’m happier here…that
there’s
more
for me here, she’ll be
content with my choice.”

“You going to spring that on her right now?” Jerry asked,
nodding his head toward the phone on the desk.

Ben shook his head. “No. No. Maybe when I escort her back
to Belgium after the wedding, I’ll explain it to her then. It’ll take me that
long to have a plan to return, anyway. I can’t just keep flying back and forth
ninety days here and there.”

“I’m sure something will shake out. Now, do you want to
make this call or should I? We need to figure out how to handle her ticket
situation.”

“I’ll dial.”

* * *


Moeder
,
Jeremiah
is aan de telefoon
.”

The sound of a sharp intake of air was barely registered
by Clara’s receiver, but Ben heard it and interpreted it for what it
was—an outward expression of his mother’s fear. He had no idea why she
would fear her elder son. Jerry had been nothing but gracious and hospitable
during her visits, even urging her to return soon on his dime.

“Mother, say something,” Ben urged in Dutch.

After a few moments, the soft voice on the other side of
the Atlantic managed in stilted English, “I am glad you are together.”

“Yes, you told us that several days ago. Listen, did you
receive any mail? From an airline or travel agent?”

“Yes, but there was no…” She seemed to feel around for the
English words and gave up. She continued in Dutch. “There was no information
about the hotel.”

Ben pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and
forefinger and took a bolstering breath.

Jerry interceded.

“Clara, Trinity and I will be upset if you don’t stay here
with us.”

“I could never impose.”

“You’re not imposing. What are you going to do when we
have children? Are you going to fly all the way from Belgium to stay at a hotel
in town fifteen miles from here or are you going to stay here with us? Near the
babies?”

She was quiet for a long moment. “You would want me
there?”

Now it was Jerry’s turn to rub his bridge.

Ben groaned and switched to the rapid-fire French Jerry
didn’t understand. “What the fuck, woman? He’s trying to draw you in and you’re
acting like an ice cube.”

“I just don’t want to impose. He has a mother already. I
wouldn’t dare to—”

“He has no mother!” He smacked his palm down on the
desktop with a force that startled Jerry. Ben took a deep breath and started to
pace around the desk. “That woman who adopted him doesn’t have a maternal bone
in her body. She treats him like shit she’s stepped in. You’re worried you’d
feel like an intruder, and I’m telling you this man hasn’t had a mother in over
thirty years. There’s a hole there. Are you going to step into it and fill it,
or are you going to keep holding him out at arm’s-length like you don’t want
him?”

“I have no idea what you two are saying, but I’m pretty
sure it’s about me,” Jerry said, voice deadpan.

Their mother sighed. “Thank you for your offer. I would
love to stay with you and Trinity, if it is no trouble.”

“It’s no trouble, honest. Now can we talk about the
rehearsal dinner? I feel like we should give you sufficient notice so you don’t
feel dumped on.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you going to be comfortable sharing a table with Dad
and Kate? If not, we’ll split up the seating somehow and have you sit with
Trinity’s folks.”

No response.


Moeder
?” Ben
nudged.

“I will do what you like, Jeremiah. I appreciate your
concern about my seating.”

“Of course I’m concerned. You’re my mother. Do you think
I’d stick you in a corner and make you an observer of something you’re supposed
to be participating in?”

“It is kind of you to include me.”

Jerry closed his eyes and held the phone’s mouthpiece
against his shoulder. “I give up.”

“She’ll come around. I know her.”

“She needs a goddamned hug or something.”

Ben laughed. “Yeah. A hug.” She already had the
something
. It came in a pill bottle.

 

CHAPTER FIVE

Daisy startled every time the N-by-N barn’s main door swung
open, but when she turned around to assess the new arrival, the newcomer was
usually just Juan with his hand truck fetching another load of boxes to ship or
some other staff member cycling in and out to smoke. The one person she needed
to talk to hadn’t shown up yet.

She’d tossed and turned all damn night, stomach roiling
and head spinning, driving herself very near the precipice of a full-blown
anxiety attack.

It was just like high school debate team all over again.
She’d lasted only a week in that. When it had been her turn to take the podium,
arguing on the “pro” side of Sunday mail delivery, she’d tamped her stack of
index cards on the stand, took one look at the audience, and promptly lost her
lunch.

Nikki wasn’t
that
scary. What was the worst she could say? “No”?

“Girl, you’re wound so tight I could probably sharpen a
pencil in your ass.”

Had it been anyone else, Daisy would have blushed and hid
her face, but for Momma? That was par for the course. She groaned and bent her
head low over the oatmeal soap bars she’d been wrapping all morning. “I’m just
tired.”

“Why? Ellis and Elizabeth keeping you up again?”

Ellis and Liz: AKA Daisy’s housemates. Ellis was deaf in
one ear from working at the shipyard and lived life twice as loud as necessary.
Liz worked from home doing third shift customer service by phone for a certain
moving van rental company. Sometimes irate movers yelled at her. Sometimes Liz
yelled back.

Daisy scooped up the ten soaps she’d just packaged and
carried them to the waiting box on the nearby table. “No, Momma. I have
earplugs for them now.”

“Why don’t you just move home, huh? Quieter.”

Daisy returned to her stool and pulled the next tray of
cut soaps closer. “Because I’m twenty-seven years old. I’ve been married and
divorced and have reliable income. I shouldn’t be living with my mother.”

“Says who?”

Daisy didn’t answer. A dark bolt at the front of the room
caught her attention and she turned her gaze toward Nikki’s office. The boss
lady had arrived through the non-public entrance via the storeroom and made a
grab for her ringing desk phone. Daisy watched Nikki mouth “Nikki
Stacy-Mitchell” and stood.

“Momma, I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, you telling me your comings and goings now? I thought
twenty-seven-year-olds didn’t do that. Silly me.”

God.
Daisy
adjusted the hair beneath her baseball cap so the brim sat straighter and
activated her tunnel vision. She kept her eyes on Nikki’s office door as she
strode through the expansive facility, passing the sofas where the staff
lounged during breaks, the large pine conference table, Jerry’s
cubicle—where he sat, fortunately, with his back turned to the aisle,
Trinity’s workbench, and the kitchenette.

Daisy stopped in the doorway and wrung her hands as Nikki
cut her gaze up from the pad she scribbled notes on.

She beckoned Daisy in.

Daisy stepped just inside the threshold and shifted her
weight.

“That’s really last-minute. I don’t know if I have anyone
to send,” Nikki said into the phone. She finally sat down and tossed her pencil
onto the desktop.

The fine hairs on the back of Daisy’s neck stood on end,
and without turning around she knew they had company in the small office.

“Look, I’ll try to scrape something together but at this
late date I don’t know what it’s going to be. That’s a lot of free shit to give
out, and lot of employee man-hours. My staff is very lean. I can’t afford to
send my principals out to trade shows and have them standing behind tables
for…” She stopped and crooked one black eyebrow up at the new arrival in the
doorway. “Let me call you back.”

Daisy turned her head to the right to find Ben leaning
against the doorframe. Her breath caught at the sight of him, fabulously
sunburned but still smiling.

“Ben.
Darling
,”
Nikki purred, tapping her fingertips together and grinning like the cat that
got the cream.

“Good morning.”

“Can you do me a wee favor?” She held one thumb and
forefinger a few millimeters apart to show just how small the boon was.

“Anything.”

“Shit, I wish everyone else was so accommodating. I’d
spend less time yelling. Come in and close the door for me, will ya? Oh!
Daisy!” She snapped her fingers and pointed at her, seeming to confess she’d
forgotten she was there. “You’re so damn quiet. What’d you need, hon?”

“Uh…” All of Daisy’s blood seemed to rush to her head and
her stomach turned. She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth and stood
from the armchair she’d been occupying. “I wanted to pitch something, but…” She
looked from blank-faced Nikki to Ben whose smile widened at her attention.

Fuck.

She dropped her gaze to her shoes. “I’ll come back later
when you’re not busy.”

“Honey, if there’s ever a point when I’m not busy, go
ahead and roll me into the nearest open grave.” Nikki picked her pencil up once
more and used it to wind her long hair into a sloppy bun.

Ben closed the door.

Nikki fixed her green gaze on her and ground her teeth. Teeth-grinding
was her tic.

Just spit it out.
The sooner you do, the sooner you’ll be out of her firing range.

“I had an idea for some new soaps.”


You
did?”

Daisy opened her mouth to respond and closed it while she
got her thoughts together. How to be diplomatic? She didn’t want to throw her
mother under the bus or anything. She just wanted some
independence—authority of her own.

She sighed. “Nikki, I didn’t want to wait for the Monday
meeting because Momma doesn’t know I’m even thinking about this.”

“Hmm.” Nikki gestured to the chair, indicating Daisy
return to it.

She did, and pulled it closer to the front of the desk.

Ben was still hovering, so Nikki hooked her thumb toward
the other chair. He pulled it up.

“Lay it on me, Daisy. Maybe I can kill two birds with one
stone.”

Daisy let her face slacken with her confusion. “I’m
sorry?”

“I’ll explain when you’re done.” She tapped her fingertips
some more.

“Oh. Well, we’ve always used our old family recipes for
the soaps. There hasn’t been much change in the product in a hundred years,
best I can tell. I know people like the soaps because they’re natural, but
they’re not very luxurious.”

“Go on.”

Daisy crossed her legs at the ankles and stared at her
knees. “I’ve been brainstorming more modern products, and I think I have a
couple of ideas that’ll fit the brand but maybe appeal to a younger
demographic.”

“Younger and more broke?”

Daisy shook her head. When she looked up, Nikki had found
another pencil and was scratching notes onto her pad.

“People who are careful with their spending, but who’ll
splurge on toiletry items they view as necessities.”

“Give me three ideas off the top of your head.”

Three? Shit.
Daisy clucked her tongue. “Um, well, the first is a lemon astringent.”

Nikki lifted both brows and grunted. “Sounds nice. What
else ya got?”

Daisy swallowed hard. “An orange cream body
soap—orange natural glycerin and milk.”

Nikki scribbled on her yellow pad. “And number three?”

Eenie-meenie-miney-moe…

“A lavender-grape seed oil soap with soy for blemishes.”

Nikki whistled long and low and intensified the frenzied
pace of her writing. When she looked up again, she didn’t turn her attention to
Daisy. She looked at Ben.

“Ben, I wanna tell you a secret.”

He laughed that deep, chesty laugh that made the wrinkles
at the sides of his eyes deepen. “I’m afraid.”

“You should be.” The little boss lady stood and sauntered
to the file cabinet installed near the closet door. She pulled open the top
drawer and scanned the file tabs until she found one of particular interest.
“Ben, I really,
really
hate trade
shows.” She pulled the file and closed the drawer.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m not charming. I get annoyed easily.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that about you, Nikki.”

She narrowed her gaze at him. “Are you bullshitting me?”

He just grinned.

“All right, silver-tongue. Normally, if I absolutely have
to send someone, I send Trinity because she knows the chemistry. But this is
too soon and with the wedding coming and all she has on her plate right now,
that wouldn’t be fair to her.”

“How can I help?”

“I like you more with each passing minute, Ben. You should
snap him up before someone else does, Daisy.”

Daisy chuckled nervously as her face flooded yet again.
She snuck a peek at Ben and found his smile had wilted a bit at the edges.
Still friendly, but bearing some hint of familiarity—as if they shared
some secret. With her gaze back to her knees, she wrung her hands.

“Ben, this show is on Saturday. It’s an honor for N-by-N
to even be invited, even if they’re plugging us into a bigger company’s slot
who had to pull out at the last minute. I’m happy to take away bigger
companies’ market share, and this is how I wedge this little company into
places it otherwise couldn’t go. So, I’ll be candid.”

She handed him the manila folder she was holding and
waited for him to open it and review the glossy event brochures inside.

“You’re handsome, you’ve got an accent women seem to like,
and you don’t have shit else to do.”

He laughed. “Oh, well, if you put it like
that
.”

“Four hours including set-up and clean-up. Ten if you
include the driving.”

“What would I have to do?”

“Hand out samples, tell everyone how great Nikki
Stacy-Mitchell is, that sort of thing.”

He raised one eyebrow.

Nikki shrugged and walked to the front of her desk,
leaning her butt against the edge. She looked at Daisy. “I need some samples,
honey.”

“Samples?”

Nikki closed her eyes and nodded. “Mm-hmm. Samples. Small
ones, but pretty ones. I figure around…” She moved her lips silently as if
computing figures in her head. “Three hundred about this big.” Using her thumb
and forefinger to make a circle, she demonstrated an approximate silver dollar
size.

“Soap, you mean?”

“Mm-hmm.” Nikki wrenched her torso around and reached for
her pad. “This show is to spotlight new products, and we hadn’t planned
anything for it. If push came to shove, I would have sent out the winter nail
polish palette, but I like this idea better.” She held the pad up and pointed
to her scribbles. “A hundred and ten of each. The thirty extra will be for research
and development.”

Daisy gaped. “But we’re not going to have time to test
them before…”

Nikki put up her hands. “I know. Right now, having
anything on the table would be better than showing up with nothing. If it’s
good soap, our presence there will just be one more feather in the collective
N-by-N cap. If folks don’t like them?” She shrugged. “Then they’ll just die a
trade show death and we’ll forget it ever happened.”

Wow
.

Daisy understood the stakes. If people liked the soaps,
her success would mean Nikki would trust her with more creative endeavors.
Maybe it could mean finally ducking out from under her mother’s wing—to
have something of her
own
. Something
that showed she had a pretty good brain under all that red hair, and wasn’t
just a robot people fed instructions to.

This was her chance to grab some confidence and hold it in
her heart forever.

She nodded at Nikki. “Three hundred and thirty by Friday
night. I’ll need to get some supplies, but I’ll start tonight after Momma
leaves.”

“Good. I’ll need you to be there on Saturday to explain
the ingredients, because Ben’s not going to remember that shit.” Nikki walked
around her desk and picked up her phone. She dialed an internal extension and
put it on speaker.

“Yes?” Trinity answered.

Nikki sunk into her cushy leather seat, rubbed her tired
eyes and said, “Turn off your speaker, Trin.”

A beep, then a squeak as the receiver cleared the phone
base. “What’s going on?”

“Do either you or Jerry have corporate cards with you
today?”

“I have mine. I never clean my wallet out.”

“Don’t share this with anyone other than Jerry, not even
Francine. This is an R&D issue.”

Silence, then, “Do I need to come in there?”

“No, there are already too many bodies in here. Right now
it looks friendly because Ben doesn’t work here. Listen, Daisy’s going to make
test soaps for Saturday’s skin and hair show. She needs supplies ASAP.”

“Shit, we’re not going to be able to get a delivery that
fast. We’re going to have to go to Chesapeake.”

“I know. Leave now.”

“Right.” Trinity hung up her extension.

Nikki stabbed the hot line’s button so the light went off.
She looked at Ben first, then Daisy. “I don’t have a whole lot invested in this
show, but if you two make a splash, I’ll make it worth your while. You know I
always pay favors back two-fold.”

Ben rubbed the soul patch beneath his lip and pulled his
bottom lip through his teeth. He was a million miles away, and Daisy would have
given much to know what was running through that mind of his.

As she stood and gripped the doorknob, her thoughts spun
in her mind in perfect clarity. She’d be spending an entire Saturday with the
man she practically threw herself at.

Universe, sometimes
I don’t get you.

 

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